


flying too close to the sun

by immortalized



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friends to Lovers, M/M, also louis is a radio announcer and works with grimmy, and bestfriends, and lots of angst, and some ziam for you all, basically boys being idiots, but its nice angst, harry writes songs, liam's a businessman, niall does music stuff, ooh and it's an au they're all grown up and out of uni and have steady jobs, ooh and of course theres a little smut cant forget that, they have a love/hate relationship, zayn does art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalized/pseuds/immortalized
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis sleeps with harry and it should change everything, but it doesn't.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i> but the problem is, louis doesn't want to just be harry's best mate.  he wants to hold hands with harry and kiss his pretty mouth in public and cuddle into his chest after morning sex.  but harry's never had that kind of relationship with anyone, ever, and louis highly doubts he's gonna be the exception.  maybe louis should just take what he can get and try to get over it. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	flying too close to the sun

**Author's Note:**

> title from bastille's "icarus"
> 
> sorry it's in all lowercase i got really lazy while typing it!
> 
> but also i worked really really hard on it so please give me comments/likes/kudos share it on tumblr
> 
> ...don't send this fic to any of the boys or people who associate with them, etc.

\---

when louis wakes up, he's naked in a warm bed with his best friend. 

it's unfairly early for a bright saturday morning. louis throws an arm over his eyes to shield himself from the piercing sunlight, scrunching his eyes up tight. the brightness streams through the window, between the gaps in the sheer curtains and straight across his face. his eyes are still a little sensitive from the darkness of sleep, and it takes a while for him to look around the room without wincing.

louis glances to his right. harry is still asleep, his curls fanning out on to the flattened pillow beneath his head. he must have rolled over in the middle of the night; there are imprints of the creases of the sheets on his cheek. he shifts a bit and snuffles, his legs kicking the covers farther down the bed. the room is silent and calm. crisp, cool air rushes over louis' skin, pulling him farther out of sleep.

as louis yawns, he realizes that they're both still naked, skin gritty from last night. his back sticks to the sheets as he sits up in bed, tugging the covers with him. the sunlight is brighter still, making his eyes ache. louis would be annoyed if he wasn't so ridiculously happy to wake up and see harry there, lying next to him as if they did it every night.

which, they don't. this is a bit new for them both.

the door is closed firmly, the windows cracked a little to let a soft summer breeze enter the bedroom. the london air isn't usually very refreshing. actually, it often smelled like dank alleyways, piss and rubbish bins. this morning, he's a bit lucky. the scent that curls into the flat only smells slightly of cigarette smoke and stale air.

harry doesn't wake up as louis pads into the bathroom, glancing briefly at his rumpled reflection before stepping under the shower head. he massages shampoo into his flat, tired hair, watching it drip down his body in bubbly rivulets. his toes curl into the tiles below his feet, in the puddles of warm water. the shower floor often gets ridiculously slippery. louis has suffered many injuries getting in and out of the damned thing, but today, nothing can ruin his good mood.

his head is filled with flashes of skin and memories of the way harry's eyes had looked in the darkness of the bedroom, heat swirling in the air between them, crackling like electricity at the proximity.

louis still can't quite believe last night actually happened. he had gone to the club with the lads, like any other night. he had been perfectly fine bracing himself for the twinge of pain he felt every time harry spotted someone, seduced someone under the strobe lights and brought them home. louis usually drank his sorrows for about an hour after harry left, hooked up with a stranger in the toilets, then ambled home alone, rather depressed.

but last night, it was different. 

last night, harry had hung onto louis' every word, getting closer and closer to him in the booth as the night wore on and they got tipsier and tipsier. louis had been a fucking mess. he could barely handle harry in the light of day, with his flirty winks and intense gazes and the fucking dimples. it was even worse in the dark heat of the club, with nothing but the loud, pounding music and an array of colorful fruity drinks. louis hadn't been able to shake off the feelings last night, despite the alarm blaring so, so loudly in his head. see, harry is louis' best friend - has been ever since they were eighteen years old and fresh-faced first years at university - and louis cannot, absolutely cannot ruin what they have. no matter how tall and strong and gorgeous harry is. no matter how well they get on.

however there's that little issue of harry being rather erm, promiscuous. harry had quite the reputation around campus, and nothing's changed much since university. harry's simply got charm - oodles of it - and he knows how to use it. 

but the thing is, harry's also one of the nicest people louis's ever had the pleasure of knowing. he's kind, and generous, and he cries over sappy movies and cooks better than louis' own mum. louis knows for a fact that harry treats everyone he sleeps with like royalty. he makes sure to pay attention to them and he doesn't just dump them the morning after, even though they don't last longer than a single night. it's never really anything more, for harry. he's never had a boyfriend, or girlfriend. doesn't like the commitment. he just likes sex a lot, apparently. 

that's understandable.

louis also isn't very good at following his own rules. he's told himself over and over not to fall into anything with harry, but nothing's really helped.

louis knows he might love a little too much for his own good. it hasn't exactly paid off yet, but it will someday. he knows that he loves kind of intensely. he loves too much, with his entire heart, not just a fraction of the whole. he's quite a capricious person, and he knows that, but when he likes someone, he falls in love with them a bit. not necessarily in a romantic way, mind you, but he tends to love with his whole being, and the people he loves are the ones he's most loyal to, the ones he'd stand up for, the ones he'd take a bullet for. it's like that with his mum, his sisters, his best friend stan from home, liam, niall, zayn, his past boyfriends. but none of them are quite like harry.

it's just. louis's a bit more in love with harry than he has been with anyone, ever, and it scares him. it scares him so much that he's been content with playing the best friend card for the past eight years. he's pretty sure it's obvious just how much he likes harry. well, obvious to everyone except harry. and sure, they've always had those moments when louis catches himself staring at harry's lips, or harry leans a bit too close or their hugs last a bit too long, touches lingering. but they've always just been friends, nothing more.

but last night. what was last night?

they'd been dancing in a group. zayn and liam were more aside, grinding against each other in a rather nauseating way, and niall had been bouncing around, hands in the air. that's when harry had leaned over, breath hot with liquor, and whispered heavily in louis' ear. "you look so fucking hot right now." louis had nearly choked on air, both swelling with immediate hope and intense arousal. that's when harry had spun him around and snogged him deeply right in the middle of the dance floor, gripping louis' waist and bum like he'd been wanting to do it for years. and well, then they stumbled home and had really great sex and now they're here.

louis is frightened, to be honest. he and harry hadn't talked about anything, they'd just gotten straight to the point. louis isn't sure what harry wants. is it more than his usual one-night off? or is louis just like the others? truth be told, louis is fucking scared. he's scared he messed up their friendship and that harry won't want anything to do with him. he's scared that he won't leave this situation with his heart intact. 

but right now, the exhilarating memory of last night and the hope he feels keeps him afloat. louis closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the water sluice down his back, leaving hot trails in its wake. the heat burns his skin, makes him feel more awake, more alert. he shuts off the water with a squeak, wiping his body dry with the towel, and pulls on a pair of boxers. he steels himself a little, then pushes the door open.

when he walks back out to his bedroom, the curtains swaying lightly in the breeze and the sunlight lighting up the entire room, harry is gone. there's an imprint of his body on the mattress, but his clothes are gone and his shoes are gone and harry is gone.

the amount of disappointment crushing his chest makes it hard to breathe. he feels like he's sinking, but when he shifts his feet where he's standing, he's surprised to feel solid ground underneath him.

louis takes a deep breath and fights the urge to peek under the bed as if harry's hiding down there, because he knows that harry's left the flat. he feels harry's loss just like he felt harry's presence next to him in the early hours of the morning. 

louis texts him. _hey u ok?_ he fidgets restlessly where he's sitting, trying not to overthink.

harry must have been spooked. he's never done commitment, for as long as louis's known him, perhaps even longer. he's never even slept with his best friends before, not even niall or nick grimshaw or cara delevingne. he likes to keep his friends separate from all that. maybe he thinks they've ruined their friendship. harry might feel like it was a mistake, might want to forget about it. or, he might just have realized how bad of an idea it was, to sleep with louis, after having time to reflect on it in the early morning light.

louis can understand that. but it doesn't really help, it doesn't make it hurt any less. he's insanely disappointed, and strongly doubting himself and feeling kind of embarrassed. it's just. he thought he might be worth a little more than just one night to harry. that he was worth more than all those strangers harry had fucked over the past few years. to be honest, he just wants to curl up and cry, but the bed still smells like harry and sex and he really can't deal with that right now. so he gets dressed, grabs his keys, and heads for niall's. louis leaves the bed unmade. 

zayn and liam are there, too, making niall breakfast. honestly, it's like niall is their child most of the time. he practically lives in liam and zayn's flat unless the couple wants privacy, and then they always go to niall's later anyway. it's the weirdest dynamic ever. niall's current girlfriend, amy, probably spends less time with him than liam and zayn do. 

louis walks in and flops down on the couch, curling into a ball. his mind is still whirring, running on overdrive. it's overanalyzing everything that happened last night, when maybe it should just take it as it is. it was just one night, right? right.

harry's not there, not that louis expected him to be. he usually is, though, and that makes this even worse. he hasn't texted louis back yet, either. their little group of five is already being affected by this whole harry and louis thing and that's the last thing louis has ever wanted. he's probably ruined everything.

or maybe louis's just thinking too hard.

"unnnghh," he groans loudly into the couch cushion. 

niall plops down by louis' head, reaching over him to turn on the tv. "what's wrong lou?" louis can hear him eating something, probably a sandwich. it's too early for lunch, but that's never stopped him.

"nothing," louis says, turning his cheek to see the tv. niall's got it turned on to some crime show. on the screen, a team of men move to examine a body lying in a dark alleyway. blood pools on the concrete around the body and all over his chest. louis feels a lot like that corpse right now. 

"are you sure it's not harry?" niall asks. he drops a bottle of beer by louis' head, causing louis to jerk his head up roughly. "where is he, anyway?"

"gee thanks, niall, now i've got whiplash," louis pouts, sitting up straight. he ignores niall's questions.

niall rolls his eyes. "drama queen."

"shut up, you twat." louis shoves niall over and steals some of his crisps. "i don't know why i put up with you."

niall shrugs. "because i'm irish?"

"that's probably it," louis decides. he hasn't got any other irish friends, after all, and everyone knows you should have at least one. they're good for charming their way out of messes and helping other people get drunk.

niall turns back to his television program and louis turns his face back into his sofa cushion. it's quite nice, until niall breaks the silence.

"so how was the sex?" niall asks nonchalantly.

louis chokes on air. "what the fuck, niall?"

"i saw you tonguing each other on the dance floor," niall says, making a face. "i wanted to tell you to get a room, but then you did exactly that."

louis sighs grudgingly. "it doesn't matter. i'm pretty sure it was a one-off."

"but how was it?" niall persists, blue eyes lighting up with a manic gleam. "was it hot? was it clumsy? did he blow you? who took it up the arse?"

louis glares at him. niall is definitely too nosy for his own good. "none of your damn business."

niall shrugs. "doesn't hurt to ask."

"it was great, niall. it was fucking great, okay?" louis leans on the armrest and slumps his head onto his chest. 

niall roughly claps him on the back. "good lad. god knows how long you've been waiting for that to happen."

louis shrugs. "it's not. happening, that is."

"what, why?" niall frowns. "you clearly like him, he clearly likes you. why the fuck aren't you boyfriends yet?"

louis needs to get new friends. they clearly don't understand anything. he rolls his eyes. "he does not like me like that, okay? it was just a shag to him. it's fine."

niall gapes. "that is not fine. are you fucking kidding me? did you guys talk about anything afterwards?"

"no, we fell asleep, niall. and when i woke up, he was gone." louis buries his head into a pillow. "can we just stop talking about this?"

he can feel niall's frown, even though he's not looking at the irishman. liam and zayn call them to the kitchen for breakfast, though, so niall doesn't have time to scold louis yet again.

they're all eating their eggs and bacon when niall speaks up again. "i just don't get it."

louis groans and buries his head in his hands. he just wants to forget about it. harry has his reasons. louis can't get in the way of that. "stop talking about it."

"what are you talking about?" demands zayn. niall proceeds to recap everything for liam and zayn in the next five minutes, while louis stares morosely at his eggs and sips his orange juice.

they react the same as niall did. louis really needs new friends. ones that aren't so invested in his sex life.

\---

louis is pretty sure he can handle being around harry again. until he's actually around harry again. the five of them are at liam and zayn's two days later, where niall's conducting a FIFA tournament and chugging beer like nobody's business.

louis sits on the couch opposite the armchair harry's in, and steadfastly avoids his gaze. he hasn't heard from harry in the past couple days, and he certainly hasn't tried to reach out to him otherwise. if harry wants space, he's gonna get it.

liam crows from where he's sitting on the other couch. "suck my dick, niall!" 

niall pouts from his seat. "you cheated, payne. don't think i didn't see you hand the controller to zayn for that last play."

zayn steps back, his hands up in surrender. "don't look at me, niall. i've been over here the whole time." he hadn't been.

louis chuckles and pulls zayn down into a tackle, rubbing his hand on the back of zayn's head and pulling him on the floor. niall yelps as they roll over his foot. it feels good to fool around like this, to laugh and joke and not worry for once.

but all night, louis can feel harry's eyes on him, and he just wants to make it stop. he escapes to the kitchen, his eyes feeling strangely prickly. rubbing at them furiously, he opens another bottle of beer and takes a sip. the beer is cold and it makes his teeth numb as he swallows a mouthful. and even though he's not facing the doorway, he can feel harry's presence behind him as he enters the kitchen.

"lou, i'm so sorry," he says, and louis spins around. harry looks great, as usual, and it makes louis irrationally angry. his curls hug the nape of his neck and twist out from the sides. he's only in a t-shirt and track sweats, but his eyes are refreshed and wide, skin tan and healthy. teeth white and bright. louis wishes harry weren't so attractive. it'd make his life a hell of a lot easier.

"no, it's fine," he lies, shifting on his feet. louis leans backwards onto the marble countertop and prays that harry stays on the other side of the room. he doesn't know if he'll be able to handle this if harry's breathing in his space.

"it's not fine," harry insists, moving forward. "it's just, it all happened so fast and it wasn't the way i wanted it to go, and i freaked out. i am so, so sorry, louis." he looks ridiculously pleading, his eyes wide like a puppy's, his hands twisting together nervously. "please, can we talk?"

what the hell does harry even mean? louis stops for a second, weighs his options. he could lay it all on the table, right there, tell harry how he really and truly feels, how he's felt for the past eight years. or, he could play it safe, go along with what harry's about to say, how he wants to put it in the past and never talk about it again. we were drunk, i was horny, blah blah blah. louis's always been a bit of a coward, to be honest, so he goes with option two, even if it makes his heart hurt a little just thinking about it.

"it's alright," louis shrugs, shoulders stiff. "you're forgiven." he gives a short, dry laugh. "no big deal. i mean, s'not like i'm in love with you or anything." once he blurts it out, he immediately wants to take it back. that was a bad, bad idea. louis can practically feel the cheery falseness in his voice, and he's pretty sure harry can tell he's lying. louis pastes a wide smile on his face and chuckles, clapping harry on the back. like a bro. just friends. "let's just forget about it, mate, alright? let things go back to normal, as if it didn't happen?"

harry's face falls. louis has no idea why he looks so damn disappointed. this is all his fault, anyways. "you sure?"

"yep, never been surer," louis says. is surer even a word? he doesn't really care. he grabs a bottle of beer and holds it out to harry, as if it's a peace offering. louis' forces his smile to widen. "alright?"

harry looks saddened, his expressions flitting back and forth before settling on resigned. "alright."

louis runs out of there faster than liam did when niall caught him putting glue in his new nikes. it's for the best, he tells himself. but it still doesn't make him feel any better.

\---

its been several weeks now, and things are awkward. louis doesn't like to dwell on it, because it makes him feel a bit sad, but he knows things have changed between them.

when he and harry go out for lunch one day after louis gets off his shift at radio 1, harry makes stilted conversation, only cracking a smile when louis tells a particularly good or horrendously bad joke. harry texts during their lunch, and louis resists the urge to take his phone and throw it out the window. 

sure, things get a bit weird when louis leans in to give harry a hug, or harry forgets what he's doing and nips at louis's face and neck like they used to, but they just stumble over it and continue on. louis knows there's not much that can be done. they're still the same harry and louis, but with a bit less physical closeness. 

everything feels rather forced. louis misses his harry, the harry that would tease him endlessly and make fun of his outfits and talk endlessly with him. now, all he gets is this awkward, stiff harry, who doesn't like to look louis in the eye and leaves uncomfortable pauses in their conversation.

louis has had enough.

he goes to zayn and liam.

zayn isn't very helpful. "he's probably just trying to figure out how to be around you. you know, since the last time you were proper comfortable around each other you ended up fucking."

liam rolls his eyes. "real eloquent, zayn."

"it's the truth," zayn shrugs. 

"what'd you tell him, anyway?" liam asks louis, furrowing his eyebrows.

"i told him that we should just forget about it," louis tells them. "it's what he wanted, anyway."

zayn frowns. "are you sure?"

"dead sure." louis traces a pattern on his trousers. "that's what he does, you know? one night things. i didn't want to make it awkward."

"well, it may have been what you think he wanted - and let me just say that i don't think that's what he wanted - but that doesn't mean that you should just ignore it! it's obviously not what you wanted, so why'd you just throw it all behind you like it didn't matter?" liam asks.

"what." louis stares at him blankly.

zayn sighs. "you like him, lou. you like him a lot. we can all tell, except harry, because you're both oblivious idiots."

"hey," louis protests.

"i know that you didn't want to pretend it didn't happen. so why didn't you just tell him the truth? that you like him?" zayn stares at him.

louis pouts. "he's my best friend, zayn. i'm not going to throw away our friendship for a relationship that probably won't work out. i need to think about what he wants, first and foremost."

liam rolls his eyes. "and how do you know he doesn't want the same?"

"he's my best friend! he doesn't even think of me like a, a boyfriend or anything like that."

zayn gives louis a look. "liam was my best friend before we got together."

"you and liam are completely different and you know it," louis says, rolling his eyes. "you were made for each other. it was bound to happen eventually." 

"and how do you know that you and harry aren't the same kind of thing?" liam persists. "are you really willing to throw away something that could be really great?"

louis nods. "definitely. i mean, self preservation and all. you do realize harry’s never had a long-term relationship before? most eligible bachelor in london, and all that. plus, i know for a fact that he's never seen me as anything more than a mate. why would i risk losing my closest friend?"

zayn stares at him, sighing in exasperation. "you are such an idiot, lou."

"hey!" louis protests.

"i wouldn't be so sure about all that, if i were you," says liam, shaking his head sadly. 

"what's that supposed to mean?" louis asks indignantly.

"never mind," zayn sighs. he turns to liam. "he'll come around someday."

"at this rate, he probably never will," mutters liam, kissing zayn on the cheek. 

zayn laughs. "don't worry, babe." he throws an arm around liam's shoulders, ignoring the glares louis is giving them. "if it gets really bad, you have my permission to stage an intervention."

louis hates his friends. they're not making any sense.

louis leaves in a huff, storming out the front door with gusto. "oh shut up you twats, just because you're lucky in love doesn't mean you have to spread your confusion and happiness to all us miserable bastards."

liam and zayn burst out laughing so loudly louis can still hear them after he's in the stairwell.

\---

louis spends a lot of time at the football pitch downtown, taking penalties at the empty goal. niall used to come with him and play keeper, but he's been ridiculously busy lately with his new producer job at the record company and he hasn't had a lot of free time during the day. 

louis reckons that the best thing about his own job at radio 1 is only having to work in the morning, despite that he and nick grimshaw don't see eye to eye on most things. they argue a lot on air, and louis knows that nick is friends with harry and all, but that doesn't stop him from kind of hating the guy. he's argumentative and loves to pick fun at louis. it's absolutely infuriating. 

louis knows harry goes to nick a lot more than he used to. he tells nick things that he hasn't told louis, and sometimes he skips nights out with them to hang with nick. louis is marginally jealous. okay, he's majorly jealous. but it's nothing he can't handle with snarky wit and well posed barbs. nick often gives back as good as he gets, and it's usually quite fun, teasing the older man. it's good practice for louis's wit and banter skills. either way, he's pretty sure their heated debates are the main reason people actually listen. entertainment and all that.

one night, when he gets to the pitch, harry's there, which is really strange. harry's awful at football - he's actually one of the clumsiest people on the planet - and he doesn't like to embarrass himself, so he generally avoids the sport unless he's watching it on television. louis draws closer, wondering if it's just a random tall stranger on the pitch, but he spots harry's pigeon-toed stance and curly hair, and yep, it's definitely him. harry stands near the goal, his shoulders broad and head bent down. 

"harry?" he asks, walking onto the dewy grass. his tightly laced boots sink into the crisp lawn. it's quiet in the evening, the birds chirping softly in the distance. there's no sound of cars or lorries or traffic jams. it's just the pitch tonight, the overhead lights, the unmoving air, and the whirring sound of the electricity in the lights. even though it's summer, the air is cool. the breeze gently ruffles louis's fringe, which uncombed and falling flat onto his forehead.

harry turns from where he was halfheartedly kicking a football back and forth between his feet. "lou?"

louis gives him a small smile, tugging his bag of footballs behind him. back in uni, he'd played on the team, and each year he bought himself a new football to celebrate making it through another school year. even now, he buys a new ball every year for old times' sake. by now, he's got about eight footballs, which he uses for penalty practice.

harry's got a white football jersey on and black sport shorts. his boots are old, beaten and stained. he's got an earbud in his right ear, probably listening to one of his favorite indie or alternative bands like the 1975 or the xx or something. they're his inspiration, he says. harry's a songwriter for the same record company niall works for. 

"what are you doing here?" louis asks, dropping the mesh bag of footballs at his feet. the air between them is different than it's been the past few weeks. less unsure. more comfortable, like before. 

harry takes the earbud out and wraps it around his phone, dropping it in his pocket. "i don't know. i was really craving a bit of fresh air and exercise, but i didn't want to go for a run. football was the next best choice."

"next best?" louis asks, mock hurt. "i'll have you know football's the most effective form of cardio that you could participate in."

harry laughs. "you say that all the time."

louis shrugs. "it's true."

"one on one?" harry asks, looking hopeful. he shoots louis a small smile. louis remembers the days in uni when harry would help louis practice during the off season, goofing off in the goal and making funny faces at him as he took his penalties.

"one on one." louis drops his bag and water bottle onto the bench, where harry's stuff is, and takes a ball out of the bag. it's a bit older, the white has faded to grey and it's covered in dark scuff marks. it's louis's favorite.

with a shout, the game begins. harry hasn't gotten any better at football in the past year, and it shows. louis weaves around him, scoring goal after goal. his footwork's rather rusty, but it's still light years ahead of harry's pigeon toed fumbles. they're laughing as they race each other across the pitch, the sky fading to black as the night sets in. 

"twat!" harry yells, kicking louis's legs as he tries to steal the ball from louis' feet. 

louis sticks out his tongue and deftly maneuvers the ball around harry's flailing limbs. "not my fault you're a fucking yeti."

harry's eyes narrow. "maybe i only seem like a yeti to you because you're so tiny."

louis glares. "i am not tiny!"

harry laughs. "look at you, all tiny and cute and mad."

"shut up!" 

louis is definitely not opposed to playing dirty. the game dissolves into playful insults and jabbing taunts. soon enough, they're committing foul after foul as they shove each other down the field. louis grabs harry's arm and pushes, hard, cackling as the other boy goes down.

"ow! louis," harry whines. he's sprawling out on the ground, waving his arms, and doesn’t even bother to get up.

"suck it!" louis yells back. he zooms past harry towards the other side of the field and kicks the ball into the goal, pumping his arms into the air.

"and tomlinson wins, fifteen to two!" he cheers, jogging back over to where harry is still sprawled in the middle of the pitch. his hair is sticky with sweat, brown curls pasted on his forehead. he's laughing still, his dimple prominent and eyes sparkling. his jersey is stained with green, from the grass, and his shorts are hiked up so far that louis can see the pale flesh of harry's upper thigh. he averts his eyes as he dances around harry. "I win, i win, i win!" he chants.

"i surrender, i surrender," harry exclaims dramatically, throwing his arm over his forehead. "you're just too good for all of us, tommo."

"of course i am." louis does a little victory dance where he's standing.

harry giggles like a little girl and reaches out, his long, slender fingers wrapping around louis' ankle. "get down here, you idiot." he tugs petulantly.

louis nudges him affectionately with his foot and flops over onto the ground to join him, staring up at the night. the grass is cool on his neck, prickly on his legs. there are barely any stars in the sky, the moon washed out by the pitch lights. for the first time all week, the silence is comfortable. being with harry is easy again, just like breathing. louis feels inexplicably happy and tired - but it's a good tired. he continues to breathe heavily, both from running around the pitch and being so close to harry.

"remember when we used to do this in uni?" harry asks suddenly. he's fiddling with a purple knit bracelet that's showing dramatic signs of wear. it's faded to a light lavender and it's frayed around the edges. it's shabby compared to the links of london bracelet and the leather one that sit next to it on his left wrist, but harry wears it all the time for some reason. "i used to meet you here after class and we'd play one on one. or do penalties."

"you were amazingly horrific at football, even back then."

"piss off," harry laughs. "dunno why i support you."

"'cause i'm flawless," louis says matter-of-factly.

harry grins, shifting a little next to louis. "remember, during the season? i met you after practices and helped you with your footwork. and i went to all your games and cheered the loudest. everyone around me told me to shut up." 

"you were my biggest cheerleader, h," louis says softly. "still are."

"and remember how liam and zayn used to paint their faces at the games and niall used to strip his shirt off and dance in the seats?"

"i remember." louis smiles into the night. "those were the days, man."

"seems like so long ago, now. but also kind of like it was just yesterday. you know?" harry rolls over so he's staring at the side of louis' head. 

"yeah, i know." louis gets it, he really does.

he still doesn't understand how time went by so fast. four years ago, they were in uni and didn't really anticipate much past dinnertime. he'd known zayn and liam from secondary school, and he'd met niall and harry in the dorms. that was kind of where it all started.

louis lived for the parties at uni, the cheap beer and the frat houses and the hangovers in morning classes. all five of them had shared a flat, which got quite messy at times, but he had loved it. he remembers stumbling out of bed to see harry bid his latest one-night stand goodbye as liam and zayn cuddled on the couch and niall ate several helpings of breakfast. louis had a new fling each month and niall was breezing through life happily single.

now, they've all got steady jobs and pension plans. louis makes a living doing what he does best - talking, and niall and harry are doing their music thing. zayn and liam are doing art and business, respectively, and they're living very domestically. hell, they're practically married. louis still has flings every now and then, and harry still sleeps around, but niall's got amy, now. so much has changed in so little time, yet things are still the same. the five of them are the same as they always have been. it's always kind of been zaynandliam, then harry and louis, and niall who's loved by them all and holds them all together. but maybe louis wishes things were different. maybe he wishes it was harryandlouis instead of harry and louis. but if he does, he pushes those wishes deep deep down where he can't touch them and neither can anyone else. if he allows himself to wish for things like that, he gives himself hope. and when louis hopes it always seem to end in disappointment.

\---

it's almost as if the past few days of awkwardness haven't even happened. after the football game, the air between them seems clearer, less confusing. more like before. 

but the thing is, it's really weird. it's really weird how good they are with this whole thing, how their shag a few weeks ago hasn't changed much between them. louis thinks he's probably overanalyzing the situation, mostly because he kind of wishes that things weren't just fine, that things would change and finally go somewhere. but they're actually mostly fine, and that really irks him. it shouldn't actually be this way. it should be massively awkward, or one of them should have hurt feelings or something. but nothing. 

louis and harry are at louis' place, pigging out on junk food and watching films, discussing last week's footie match and harry's newest project. he's writing a different kind of song, he tells louis. a song about feelings and emotions, rather than the cheesy bubblegum pop he usually gets paid to write. 

"it's gonna be way more acoustic," he tells louis excitedly, munching on some crisps. "it's kind of what i've always wanted to do. when i first started my job, i dreamed of writing this kind of stuff."

"that's great, h!" louis smiles. harry's all bright and beaming, his eyes crinkling up at the corners and his mouth smiling so widely it looks almost painful. his eyes are lively, animated. he's gorgeous.

"your turn to pick, yeah?" harry asks next, gesturing towards the television. they're ordering movies from the cable company service, instant streaming. louis had just picked their last movie, 

"nah, it's yours," louis tells him, settling back on the sofa. 

harry picks up the remote and starts scrolling through the selections, and before he even decides louis just knows he'll hate it. harry has a questionable taste in movies at best. he enjoys everything from gun-blasting action flicks to cheesy comedies to tear-jerking dramas. but he had a particular penchant for romance films, particularly ones based on nicholas sparks books.

harry selects one of the latest ones, that one that stars miley cyrus and that hot australian guy, and louis settles himself onto the couch with only a small pout. even if the movie is really bad, the presence of that rather fit liam hemsworth offsets the cringe worthiness, in louis' opinion. harry flops down and places louis' feet over his lap, grinning at him widely as the movie begins.

the film is alright at best. miley's father is apparently being blamed for some huge church fire earlier in the summer, and it turns out that liam hemsworth's best friend might have been the actual culprit.

"this is so stupid. he definitely should've just told the truth from the beginning," harry decides, gazing at the screen. he bites down on his lip, chewing insistently. it's a bad habit he has. 

louis averts his eyes from harry's mouth and stares at the screen, where liam hemsworth's character is begging miley cyrus to listen. she's storming away rather dramatically on the beach. "but he did it to protect their relationship," he argues. "he was afraid. if he told the truth from the start, then they never would've fallen in love. their relationship would've ended right then.” louis sighs. “ronnie wouldn't have had the chance to grow."

harry frowns. "but is that really reasonable? the truth is always better than holding back."

louis shrugs. "not when something as important as a relationship is at stake."

harry glances over at him. "well, if it were me, i'd want the truth, no matter what. even if it's painful, or it has negative consequences. i think i'd rather know than not know. you know?"

louis snorts. “that's a lot of 'knows', styles."

harry rolls his eyes. "you know what i mean."

"do i? do i really know?" louis asks, giggling.

harry shoves him. "heyyyy!"

"hey yourself!" louis grapples back, and the two roll off the sofa and end up on the floor, wrestling for the upper hand. louis spins so he's on top of harry, pinning him down with his thighs straddling harry's legs, hands firmly pressing down on harry's chest. 

"I win," he says, grinning smugly.

harry lets out a shaky breath, and louis feels the air puff onto his lips. his eyes are locked on harry's, and suddenly he's aware of every single place his body is touching harry's, the sides of his inner thighs, his palms, his feet.

harry's leaning up now, drawing nearer and nearer, his eyes locked on louis' mouth. louis can only stare at harry's obscene lips, which are puffy and slightly opened. a tinge of arousal jolts through him, and louis can barely breathe.

harry leans up the teeniest bit more, and his nose gently brushes louis'. at that tiny point of skin on skin contact, louis breaks into a terrible blush, his cheeks heating up faster than ever. 

this is a little too close for comfort. 

he lunges sideways, rolling off of harry's body, which is unbearably still and pliant under his own. he refuses to look at his best friend, muttering something about tea before rushing off to the kitchen. 

louis doesn't look back to see how harry is. he just runs off, darting through the kitchen doors and heavily leaning onto the counter. oh god.

this wouldn't usually be so bad, seeing as it's happened in various ways over the course of their friendship. one of them gets a little too close, and it's alright. they laugh it off and move on. but now, now louis knows how harry's bare skin feels heavy draped on his, how he squeezes his eyes and whimpers when he comes. how he likes it when special attention is paid to his nipples and inner thighs and how he has a thing for bums. 

being just harry's 'friend' has never been so hard. now that louis's had a bit of a taste for what it could be like to be more, any close proximity with harry styles is almost too fucking much. before, there'd been some manageable sexual tension, which was probably just one-sided, anyway. now, it's unbearable. if only harry weren't ridiculously gorgeous, with his big doe eyes, long slender legs, tight abs and strong broad shoulders. if only he didn't know louis better than louis knows himself, if only he were an insensitive, thoughtless prick. if only he didn't make the best banana bread in the world, or know how to brew louis's tea just the way he likes it. if only harry weren't any of these things, then maybe it'd be a little easier to be just harry's friend.

but harry's not ugly, and he's not a bad friend and he's not a horrible cook. so it's pretty damn hard.

\---

things are mostly normal again. or, at least as normal as it was before the night at the club which louis has started referring to as That Night in his head. harry and louis have gotten back on track and it's almost as if nothing has changed. almost. 

louis still finds himself thinking about That Night in more ways than one. sometimes he's struck with an overwhelming wave of sadness. he'll never get to be that close to harry again, to have a chance to actually memorize each one of harry's tattoos and feel him shudder as he comes. he'll never get to cuddle with him, naked, on the verge of sleep, threading his fingers through his curls. he'll never get to see harry on his knees for him, or do the same for harry. life just isn't fair.

but louis treks on. he goes to work everyday at the radio station and argues with nick grimshaw and then he comes home to his small, empty flat, where he eats microwavable dinners and drinks a lot of yorkshire tea. most times, he meets up with zayn and liam or niall or harry or all of them at once and they go out. sometimes they stay in. other times, he hangs out with eleanor, his best girl friend from university. it's routine.

still, louis can feel like there's something under the surface, something that they'd only breached during That Night several weeks ago. it feels like there's pressure there, like something's building up, increasing more and more as every day passes. it gives louis an incredibly irking anxiousness, and he doesn't know why or how. it just is.

louis's not stupid, he knows the pressure is bound to mount at some point. but he plans on putting that off for as long as possible. louis hasn't slept with anyone since harry, which was nearly a month ago at this point, and he's getting a bit antsy. he wants to get laid. maybe it'll scratch the itch that's been bothering louis ever since That Night. so he agrees to a friday night out at the club with the lads.

they meet up at niall's beforehand. niall's in a polo shirt and tight trousers, his blond hair spiked in the front. amy's meeting them at the club, since she's coming from work. niall hands louis a beer as he walks in, clapping him on the back. 

"alright, mate?" louis asks.

"good, good," niall says absently. "zayn and liam are in the living room," he tells him, before turning back to the kitchen to get more beer.

louis finds them sharing the armchair, heads leaned close together and whispering softly. he pulls a face and perches onto the couch, sipping at his beer. "get a room, lads."

liam rolls his eyes. "fuck off."

zayn scowls and flips louis the middle finger.

louis glares at him. "hey, now, zaynie. just because you have the peanut butter to your jelly, the angelina to your brad, doesn't mean you can rub it in my face."

zayn rolls his eyes. "you can go get your own prince charming, louis, you know. it doesn't have to be like this." he gives louis a look that louis can’t decipher.

liam frowns. "why am i angelina?"

louis ignores him. "whatever."

"no, really! why aren't i brad?" liam exclaims. "i like to think i'm rather manly." he squirms in zayn's lap. "do you think i'm manly?"

zayn pecks him on the lips. "very, very manly." he leans forward and rubs their noses together. it's disgusting.

louis rubs his eyes. "jesus christ." 

"what's up?" harry announces his presence with a large kiss smacked on zayn's cheek. zayn coos and playfully hits harry's shoulder.

"just talking," louis says quickly.

"'bout what?" harry asks, smiling widely. he looks good. unfortunately. he's wearing a black v-neck t-shirt and jeans so tight they look like they're painted onto his skinny legs. his collarbones look prominent in his shirt, his sparrow tattoos flashing above the neckline. 

"stuff," louis says, leaping up from his seat. "i'm getting a drink." he leaves harry, zayn, and liam behind. fuck zayn and his comments. he doesn't know anything.

"you ready to have a good time, mate?" asks niall, who is guzzling his second beer in the kitchen. 

"sure, niall. as long as it doesn't end in a drinking contest or me sleeping with harry, then yeah."

niall shrugs. "hey, it worked out fine the first time, right? wouldn't blame you if you wanted another go."

louis pauses. niall's actually kind of right. what's stopping him from having another shag with harry? sure, he didn't end up with a boyfriend like he'd kinda hoped for the first time, but he and harry are still good. they're still best friends. nothing's ruined between them, so maybe it really couldn't hurt, to give into the temptation just one more time. maybe it'll scratch the anxiety that's been bothering him ever since That Night.

either way, louis just wants to get laid.

niall claps him on the back. "just don't over think it, mate. harry's your best friend. it'll always be like that. no matter what else happens." 

but the problem is, louis doesn't want to just be harry's best mate. he wants to hold hands with harry and kiss his pretty mouth in public and cuddle into his chest after morning sex. but harry's never had that kind of relationship with anyone, ever, and louis highly doubts he's gonna be the exception. maybe louis should just take what he can get and try to get over it.

louis shakes his head, sighing. "whatever. let's just get on with it." hopefully he won't drink too much and get pissed out of his mind. the last thing he needs is to lower his inhibitions.

half an hour later, they're at the club, and this is all a bit too familiar to louis. he feels like he's actually honest-to-God experiencing deja vu. it's not a pleasant feeling. he feels a bit shaky, a bit restless. he knows it's not the same situation as it was That Night, but it feels almost exactly like it. the scariest part is, louis wouldn't even mind too much if it turned out the same way. maybe he's a masochist.

the floor shakes as the music gets louder, the club lights flashing over louis' head. there are bodies everywhere, tall and short, thin and wide, sweaty and cool. here, louis doesn't know anyone but the people he came with. even better.

liam and zayn have claimed a booth in the corner, where niall holds court with about two pints of beer clutched in his hands. harry comes back with a tray of shots, and that's when louis decides, "fuck it." he takes two shots and downs them, one after the other, as niall cheers him on.

"i'm gonna go dance," he decides aloud, pushing up from the booth. "anyone wanna join me?"

niall shrugs and follows after him. louis scans the dance floor, searching for a hot boy. any boy would do, to be honest. and if it got his mind off of how good harry looked, the better.

louis finds a candidate about five minutes later, after he'd been dancing with niall for a song or two. he feels thick, rough hands snake around his waist from behind, and he turns around to see a tall blond-haired boy with brown eyes like liam's.

"i'm derek," the boy shouts over the noise of the club, giving louis a small smile.

louis gives him a flirty wink and a coy smile, reaching out to place his hands around the other boy's neck. "i'm louis," he tells him loudly. derek grins and pulls louis closer to him, and they move together for the next few songs, hips grinding against each other shamelessly. louis's rather satisfied with derek for tonight. the guy is well fit, much taller than louis, and has strong arms and a toned chest. louis would definitely not mind shagging him tonight.

he and derek take a break, sipping on drinks and talking about nonsense. derek's about to describe to louis what his boxers looked like after putting them on the wrong washing cycle in uni when louis interrupts him, smiling cheekily. he's just really kind of impatient at this point and rather horny, so why not. "i don't mean to be forward, mate, but can we go to yours tonight?" derek's suddenly about less than an inch away from louis, his brown eyes gazing into louis'. 

without blinking, derek nods. "of course, of course." he leans in, pressing his lips against louis', and louis relaxes in derek's grip. the boy certainly knows how to kiss. his lips nudge louis' apart quickly, tongue swiping louis' own. louis wraps his hands in derek's shaggy blond hair and pulls him closer, kissing him back. derek's hands drift along louis' sides and to the curve of his bum. instead of pulling away (like he kind of wants to do) he pushes himself forward, grinding against derek.

he doesn't know how long they stand on the middle of the dance floor, groping and touching and kissing and not caring who sees. but before it gets too heated, louis pulls away and pats derek on the arse. "gotta just let my friends know." he jerks his head over towards the booth in the opposite corner. 

derek nods, giving him a quick kiss. "hurry back."

he doesn't get the chance to, because harry appears out of nowhere and tugs louis roughly away from derek, a pained look on his face. derek doesn't seem to notice.

"what is it, haz?" louis asks, a bit annoyed. he glances back at derek, who is now fiddling with his mobile. "i'm a bit busy right now, if you haven't noticed."

"oh, i noticed," harry says, pulling him to the opposite side of the dance floor. "and you are not going home with him."

louis stops abruptly and glares at him. harry spins around, looking a bit crazed. "and why the fuck not?"

"i don't like the look of him," harry argues, gesturing a little. "he looks like a proper twat."

louis rolls his eyes. "you can't be the judge of that. you don't even know him. he was fine. a decent kisser, if anything."

"i noticed," harry repeats, his eyes tired. his voice sounds strained. "but he's an asshole, louis, trust me."

louis crosses his arms. why the fuck is harry so angry? "oh yeah? prove it."

"that's derek walkman, alright?" harry huffs, shoving his hand through his hair, which looks taller than usual tonight. "he's a serial date-raper, lou." 

louis' eyes widen, his brows rising.could harry be right? louis knows when harry is lying; he can read him easier than a street sign. "and how do you know that?"

"because he fucking forced himself on my friend jesy last year at this very same club and she was completely powerless to stop him." harry breathes heavily, fists clenching and unclenching. louis swallows hard. "i found them in the men's toilets, and i had barely made it in time." his voice is shaking, his eyes darting wildly to glance at louis. his eyes shine with raw honesty.

"oh my god, harry," louis says, shocked. "i had no idea."

harry shakes his hair out and pushes it away from his forehead. "neither did jesy.” he looks scared, almost frightened. "louis, i had to fucking pull him off of her and bash his nose in."

holy shit. louis draws in a sharp breath. harry is one of the sweetest, most loving people he knows. it takes a lot for him to get angry, even more for him to get physical. "you hit him?" 

harry scoffs, shaking his head. "i tried. it's less than he deserves, but he's ridiculously strong. the most i could do was stall him, then grab jesy and run out. i wanted to report him, but she wouldn't let me." he sighs. "i should've done it. then he wouldn't be allowed to lurk around here anymore, looking for his next shags."

louis softens, reaches out to take harry's hand. "harry, that was really brave of you."

"yeah, well," harry shrugs. "i just did what anyone else would've done."

"not anyone else, harry," louis says. "not everyone would've been willing to risk themselves like that for someone else."

harry shrugs again, his eyes steely. he looks even hotter when he's angry. "you're not going home with him."

louis glances back at derek, who seems to have disappeared. he must've gotten bored, or figured that louis ditched him. louis doesn't want to wait around and find out. he turns back to harry and nods, letting harry pull him into a relieved hug. and that's the end of that.

but the problem is, louis still needs to get laid.

an hour and several drinks later, louis finds himself in the circle of harry's arms, grinding up against him like he was doing with derek earlier. like he did with harry a month ago. he's not really sure how he got here, hadn't really intended for the night to end up this way, but.

louis really is a masochist. but at this point, he doesn’t even care.

harry isn't complaining, though. he pulls louis closer to him, grinding against him eagerly. louis can feel harry's breath hot against his neck, making his hair stand on end and his skin prickle.

being so close to harry is delicious.

louis glances up, his eyes fluttering to lock onto harry's. the stare he finds there is intense, burning, pulsing with want. 

fuck it, louis thinks. he knows that this has a very high chance of ending up the same way it did last time, with louis alone and feeling terribly disappointed, but he really doesn't care at the moment. 

the only thing on his mind is harry. harry with his burning eyes and wild hair and plush lips. harry with the kindest, most sweetest attitude and the remarkably funny wit. harry with the cheesy jokes and stupid innuendos and clumsy ankles. louis' harry.

almost as if a silent agreement had passed between them, harry grasps louis's chin and nudges him up, licking hotly into his mouth. louis can't breathe, can't think. he sweeps his arms around harry's shoulders and twists his hands in his curls at the back of his neck, stroking at the skin there. harry cradles louis' chin and moves him to get a better angle, tongues brushing and lips colliding in a rhythm that makes louis see everything. he sees stars and fireworks and all those cliches. he sees it all.

"back to yours?" louis says breathily, lips hovering by harry's ear. it's almost torture when harry leans down to drag his lips and teeth across louis' jaw, complete disregard for all the people around them. he nips at louis's neck, licking over the skin there. "want you, harry," louis tells him, hot and honest.

"yeah, yeah, c'mon," harry pants, dragging louis in for another open-mouthed kiss before tugging on his arm, leading him out the door.

niall gives louis a look and a saucy wink as they rush out of the club, flashing him a wild thumbs-up. get some, he mouths. louis tries not to wince back at him.

oh, god, this is really happening. again.

louis lets himself be led into a cab idling at the curb, lets himself slide onto the seat, where harry grips his wrist and kisses him again, softer and slower this time. away from the heat of the club, louis' mind is a little clearer. he searches for any thoughts of regret, any lingering doubts. surprisingly, there are none. louis doesn't let himself over think it, he just swallows loudly before drawing harry into another kiss, his hand fluttering at harry's waist.

harry pulls him into his lap and kisses him so enthusiastically that louis thinks he might cry. a low heat curls in his belly. harry wants him, harry wants him just as bad as louis does right now.

the cab screeches to a stop some ten minutes or so later. harry throws some notes at the driver and pulls louis quickly through the doors of the complex and up the stairs, laughing as louis almost trips backwards. he glares at harry, clutching the other boy's arm as they continue, careful to go slower this time.

when they reach the flat, harry fumbles with his keys for a good minute while louis stands on his tiptoes, nibbling at harry's collarbones. 

"louis, louis stop!" he giggles, turning away from him. "i gotta get the door open, c'mon."

louis pouts, pressing his lips to the back of harry's neck instead. "hurry up, babe. i'm not waiting all night for you to unlock your flat."

"i'm not gonna if you keep distracting me like that!" harry laughs.

louis shrugs. "if you can't get it open you can just fuck me right against the door."

harry groans and pushes him away a little bit. he slots the key into the lock and turns to look back at louis, his eyes wide. "are you sure about this?"

"absolutely." harry seems to breathe out a sigh of relief. louis gives him a look. "now, are you going to get on with this?"

harry rolls his eyes and swings the door open, scooping louis up into his arms and pushing across the threshold. "shut up, lou." harry pushes louis up against the wall by the door and rolls his hips, pressing his lips to louis’s neck.

louis grabs harry’s face in his hands and kisses him back deeply, grinding back against harry. “bed,” he pants, pulling lightly on harry’s hair. 

harry grips louis’s thighs tighter and hoists him up, not pausing to see where he’s going before slamming through his bedroom door and collapsing onto the bed. he pulls louis over him, hands roaming up louis’s sides and rucking up his t-shirt. wherever harry’s hands brush his skin, he leaves a trail of white hot energy that has louis gasping and mouthing hotly at harry’s neck. 

“get this off,” harry murmurs lowly, grabbing the hem of louis’s t-shirt and pulling it off over louis’s head. without pause, he shucks his own t-shirt and jeans off and makes quick work of louis’s. in a flash, they’re both stripped down to their boxer shorts, hands greedily roaming each other’s torsos and grinding eagerly against each other.

louis thinks this is probably the hardest he’s ever been in his entire life.

harry reaches forward and grips louis teasingly through his pants, stroking the tip of his cock where it pokes out of his shorts and pressing his palm lightly against the shaft. louis groans and grinds upward, kissing harry fervently. “get on with it,” he says breathlessly.

with a growl, harry pulls louis’s underwear down and brings his head down to lick eagerly at the head of louis’s cock. he brings his fingers to wrap around the base and uses the digits of his other hand to stroke louis’s balls. 

“fuck,” louis curses, wrapping his fingers in harry’s curls. laving his tongue around the underside, harry swallows louis’s down and works his hands where his mouth can’t reach. louis pants heavily, gripping harry’s hair tighter, and wriggles under harry’s mouth. “fuck harry, your mouth.”

harry hums in response, taking louis deeper. louis feels his cock hit the back of harry’s throat, but harry doesn’t stop, just keeps going until his mouth is wrapped around the entirety of louis’s length. “fuck,” louis repeats. he’s lost all other vocabulary at the sight of harry, here, knelt between louis’s legs, sinful red lips sucking down louis’s cock, his hair wild and eyes watering and cheeks flushed. the sight alone drives louis even closer to the edge. he squeezes his eyes shut.

louis is definitely going to go to hell.

harry’s bobbing his head eagerly now, tongue curling under the head of louis’s cock every time he brings his mouth up. louis gasps as harry prods the slit with his tongue, grasping harry’s curls in his hands to pull him up and off his cock. this isn’t how he wants to come tonight. 

“everything okay?” harry asks him shakily, wiping the saliva off his mouth. he sits up a little, the sheets crinkling under his thighs. fuck, his voice is absolutely shot, rough and deep from sucking louis off. harry’s cock tents the front of his boxers, completely untouched. harry’s gotten this hard from simply sucking louis’s dick.

louis moans loudly. “come up here,” he says, and harry obeys, crawling up louis’s body to suck on louis’s shoulder. louis pulls harry’s boxers off and grips harry’s dick in his small hand, moving them quickly, jacking harry off. harry moans and thrusts into louis’s grip. “want you to fuck me,” louis says lowly into harry’s ear.

harry freezes and pulls away an inch. “you sure?” god, his voice is still so wrecked from deepthroating louis a few minutes earlier. 

“i’m sure,” louis says firmly. he grabs harry’s hand and brings it around to brush against his arse. “that is, if you want to…”

harry nearly trips over himself when he nods wide-eyed. “i want to,” he says, brushing his lips against louis’s chest. “i want to so badly, you have no idea.”

“i think i have a bit of an idea,” louis teases, gripping harry in his hand again and twisting smoothly. harry moans, long and low.

“you’re so fucking hot, louis, want to fuck you so badly.” 

“get on with it, then!” louis laughs, shoving himself up the bed so he’s propped against the pillows. his dick is hard and straining against his hip, and louis is going to absolutely die if he doesn’t get harry inside of him.

harry stumbles over to the bedside table and draws out a tiny bottle of lube and a foil packet. he drops them down onto the bed and leans over to kiss louis again, and as his teeth nip lightly on louis’s lower lip, louis can only think about how ridiculously sober he feels right now, right here, with harry on top of him, lying together in harry’s warm sheets. it kind of scares him, to be honest, but louis shoves that thought away, saves it for later.

this is all that matters right now.

harry crooks one finger into him, working him open tenderly yet teasingly. before long, louis’s begging for more. “please, harry, another,” he moans brokenly, wriggling back onto harry’s fingers. harry obeys, adding another, then another. he bends them and brushes against louis’s prostate, causing louis to gasp and push himself harder onto harry’s fingers, fucking himself on his digits.

“oh god, harry, i’m ready now, please please please,” he says hurriedly, grasping the foil packet and ripping it open. he rolls the condom over harry’s cock and slicks him up, giving him a few strokes.

harry hovers over louis, knees braced on the mattress, hand on his cock as he lines himself up and pushes in. louis watches, eyes wide, as harry presses inside him. louis’s fingers flutter around his entrance, feeling where he’s joined to harry. harry feels so good once he’s bottomed out, every movement of his body shifting him deeper inside louis. 

louis hoists his legs up and grabs harry’s shoulders, pressing kisses over his face, his chest, his shoulders, his mouth. “move, babe.” 

harry nips louis’s ear and obeys, starting to thrust shallowly. he braces his hands by louis’s head and groans heavily as he speeds up, skin slapping loudly against louis’s. the bed is shaking underneath them, the headboard hitting the wall with heavy thuds, but neither of them care. louis’s “uh, uh, uh’s” and strangled curses fill the air as harry thrusts into him, making him see stars. “fuck, harry, harder,” he groans out, scratching his nails onto harry’s back. 

harry braces his feet against the mattress to get more power behind his thrusts and lets loose, absolutely pounding into louis, brushing his prostate with every thrust. he pants into louis’s neck, thrusting more sloppily now as he nears the edge. louis’s whining loudly now, making shaky noises every time harry slams into him. louis doesn’t really know if he can think straight right now, let alone talk, with harry inside him, filling him up.

“come for me, louis, come on,” harry whispers, gritting his teeth, slamming into louis with unparalleled force. louis is struck by harry’s beauty as he groans above him, his muscles flexing and straining with every thrust. his lips are parted as he closes his eyes and moans, chasing his orgasm. he’s undeniably gorgeous even during the daytime, but here, at night, in the heat of the bedroom and the sweat of the sheets, he’s otherworldly.

“touch me,” he groans loudly. harry reaches down, shifting his weight to one arm, and palms louis swiftly, moving his hand up and down louis’s cock and twisting on the upstroke. louis sobs out when harry flicks his thumb under the head and he falls apart, body writhing on the mattress as he spills over his stomach and harry’s hand. he’s still shaking as harry continues to fuck him through it, muttering unintelligible words into his ears. harry keeps jerking him off as he comes, and louis has near tears in his eyes as he’s stroked to oversensitivity.

when louis can see a little clearer, he entwines his fingers around harry’s neck and whispers hotly to him. “let go harry, c’mon, fuck me, come for me.” he trails his fingers up harry’s chest and thumbs his nipples, tweaking them once, twice.

harry swears loudly, presses his mouth over louis’s chest, sloppily thrusts a few more times, and comes, hips stuttering as he comes inside him. louis holds him through it, pressing butterfly kisses to his neck and chest as harry shudders above him.

shit.

after he’s recovered, harry pulls himself out of louis carefully and discards the condom, collapsing on his side back onto the bed, eyes drooping shut. harry’s chest is flushed from the top of his sparrow tattoos on his collarbone to his butterfly on his stomach. his eyes are teary, his hair is unkempt and sweaty, and his mouth is puffy and bruised. louis thinks that he’s never looked more perfect.

louis cuddles against him, turning his back to harry’s chest so he can be the little spoon. right now, he’s calm with the bliss of his recent orgasm, and he lets himself have this moment with harry. this moment where he feels closer to him than he’s ever felt before.

he can deal with his stupid feelings and emotions in the morning.

—

the second morning after is almost worse than the first one. it's still black outside; the first rays of sunlight haven't even broken the sky. louis glances at harry. his dark hair is a startling contrast to the whiteness of the pillow. even in the darkness, louis can see the slope of harry's nose, the curl of his mouth. it's painful to look at.

it's like when louis was younger and used to stare longingly at the expensive toys in the shops during christmas. his mum could never afford the giant cars or the bicycle or the skateboard. louis knew that he could never have them, but it didn't stop him from wishing, from wanting.

because louis wants this, he really does. he wants to wake up next to harry every morning without anxiety and love harry every day like he's wanted to for years. he wants the kind of relationship liam and zayn have, and he wants to make others jealous. he wants all of that. all of harry.

and wanting that kind of thing is pointless. this has happened before. louis thought things were falling together, when in reality they had stayed the same.

he can't go through that again. that feeling of stagnancy, like he and harry were never going to go anywhere, like their relationship couldn’t change, ever, not even when sex was added to the mix.

he slips out of bed, feeling the cool morning air wash over his skin, still sticky from last night. this time, he doesn't bother to take a shower. he pulls on his clothes and grabs his wallet and phone. before he leaves, he considers writing harry a note, something to ease his worries.

he doesn't.

louis takes his stuff and leaves before he has time to think about staying. there's barely enough time for him to get out of the flat and downstairs, let alone think about regret and harry.

when he gets home, he turns his phone off and doesn't leave his flat for the rest of the weekend. it’s better that way, he reckons.

all he focuses on are re-runs of friends on DVD and ignores the heavy pounding of his heart that thrums whenever harry appears in his mind. he steadfastly does not look at his phone and tries his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut, the heavy feeling of disappointment and regret and shame. he’d left so he could protect himself from the immense crushing of disappointment that he’d experienced last time. he’d left so that he could save his friendship with harry. but all he feels is a crushing sadness that sits on his chest and threatens to drown him.

it turns out that protecting his heart is a lot harder than it should be.

\---

on monday morning, louis has work. he heads to the station at five in the morning with a heavy cup of coffee and weary eyes.

unfortunately, nick fucking grimshaw feels like five in the morning is a reasonable time to pick a fight.

"tomlinson, tomlinson," he says, shaking his perfectly groomed head as louis stumbles in.

"shut up, grimmy," louis says, dropping into his seat across from nick. "now is not the time."

nick raises an eyebrow. "not the time to mention that harry came over to my flat yesterday in tears?"

louis winces. "it's none of your business."

"harry's made it my business," nick protests. "he came over and got piss drunk and wouldn’t tell me what’s going on. only that it was about you.”

louis doesn't reply. of course harry would go over to nick’s. but why the hell would harry be so torn up about it? he should’ve been relieved that louis had saved him the awkwardness of the morning after. if anything, louis should've been the one who got the short end of the stick. being in love with a best friend who doesn't love you back is pure torture. the worst kind.

"it was awful, tomlinson. red eyes and runny nose everywhere. i'm not good with emotions, mind you, so consoling him was rather difficult. and i'd do anything to make sure he's not like that again," nick says. "god knows he's been through enough."

what does nick know anyway? louis glares. "this is between me and harry. just leave it."

nick rolls his eyes. "seems to be only harry at this point, really. heard you've been ignoring him since saturday."

"you don't understand," louis snaps back. the thing is, he doesn't. he only sees harry, who must be feeling guilty after fucking up their friendship yet again. nick doesn't know how louis felt the morning harry had left him all those weeks ago. how harry didn't really seem to care when louis told them it didn't matter.

"i really don't," nick sighs. 

louis is about to tell nick to fuck off when the producers beckon at them to start the show, and they're on air.

fuck nick grimshaw and his stupid habit to poke his nose in everybody's business. 

\---

it's a thursday, and it's lads night. or, as zayn likes to put it, "lazy lads night." the five of them usually just stay in, order takeout, play video games, and watch movies.

louis normally looks forward to lounging around and doing nothing with his best friends, but not this week. because he still hasn't seen harry since last saturday morning, when the sky was black and his heart was heavy, and he's not sure how he's going to be able to face him again.

turns out, he doesn't have to, because harry never shows up.

zayn and liam exchange looks at each other when they think louis isn't looking, but no one brings harry up, and louis is glad for that. he tries to act as normal as possible, but it's obvious that the others know how down he is. they're trying to coddle him as much as possible, snuggling up to him on the couch and getting him food and drinks like he's an invalid.

louis would hate it, except right now he's really too tired of everything to protest.

when it's time to leave, louis gives them all half-hearted smiles and waves goodbye. at this point, he's pretty much done trying to pretend he's okay. he hasn't cracked a joke all night.

niall just gives him a big hug and a smile and tells him things will be alright. "don't get down on yourself, louis. just because you think things are a certain way doesn't mean they actually are."

it's a nice sentiment, but louis's not really quite sure what niall means. but then again, when does he ever?

\---

it's been a little less than a week since louis last talked to harry, or even so much as seen him in person. he's made no move to reach out to louis, but then again, louis hasn't tried to call harry either.

louis isn't sure whether it's because he thinks harry needs space or he needs space himself.

either way, things go on as normal, except for the huge harry-shaped hole in his routine. it’s weird. they used to meet up for lunch or hang out with the others all the time, and now it's just empty. louis eats lunch with zayn and liam or niall, or he sits alone.

from what nick tells him, harry is fine. and that's. that's fine. louis can deal with that. he knew harry'd get over it in a few days. it's nothing.

one morning, when louis wakes up, head pounding and heart heavy, liam and zayn are sitting at his kitchen table and murmuring to themselves.

"not that i don't like your company, lads," louis mumbles, shuffling across the tiles in his socks. "but it's a bit too early for you two."

"we need to talk to you," zayn tells him, pulling out a chair. there's a cup of hot tea waiting for him at the table.

louis narrows his eyes, suspicious. he takes the chair and sits down, tentatively sipping at the tea. it's a bit on the sweet side, but other than that, it's fine. everything's fine.

"so. harry," liam says.

louis groans. "can we stop with this?"

"no, louis," zayn says. "because you're being unreasonably depressed and so is harry and it has got to stop. it's making everything complicated and there's absolutely no reason for it to be."

"what can i say?" louis asks flatly. "i slept with harry not once, but twice, in which both times he made it clear it was a one-night thing only."

liam rolls his eyes. "did you actually talk to him after the second time? from what i've heard, you just ran out."

louis glares at him. "i was leaving before he could kick me out!"

"how did you know he was gonna kick you out, anyway?" zayn sighs. 

"he left after the first time without so much as a goodbye," louis reminds them. "the next time wasn't gonna be any different."

"did you even talk to him?" 

"there was no reason to!" louis is getting frustrated. "i think i know harry pretty well, okay? he doesn't like me as more than a friend, and yeah, there's a little sexual attraction there, but he doesn't want anything more with me. he's never wanted anything more with anybody? why start now?"

zayn and liam give him twin blank stares. "are you serious?"

"dead." louis sits back, suddenly tired. "now, if that's all…?"

"that's not all!" liam insists, sitting up. 

"liam," zayn warns him, but liam plows on.

"louis, you obviously do not know harry as well as you think. and apparently, he doesn't know you all that well either, because if you did, you'd be snogging each others' faces off right now." liam's leaning forward, his eyes steely and determined.

"what the hell are you talking about?" louis asks.

"harry loves you!" liam bursts out. zayn winces. "it wasn't our secret to tell, but we can't deal with this anymore. harry has loved you for so long, and you’ve loved him for nearly as long, if not longer. we thought you would've caught on by now,” liam says, waving his hands widely. “…but here you are."

louis scoffs and rolls his eyes. “you’re wrong.”

“no we’re not. it's true," zayn says quietly. "he told us himself. the reason he's never wanted to date anyone was because he was always holding himself out for you, louis. and all this time you were suffering, he was probably in twice as much pain as you."

"you are both such idiots," liam huffs. "he's literally been pining after you since university. and we know you felt the same way. we honestly thought you'd been hooking up way before." 

louis stares at them. "you can't be serious."

"dead," liam quips. "i wouldn't lie about this. neither would zayn."

the thing is, louis knows deep down, that they're telling the truth. but the truth doesn't seem to make sense. it doesn't fit into the world that louis's always known, a world in which he and harry are best friends and nothing more. 

liam sighs. “look, louis. what you and harry have as friends is amazing, right? you always seem to be on the same page. you get each other. i’ve never seen two people click more than you guys. and i totally understand your fear of ruining that. but you and harry on the next level could be absolutely incredible.” he shrugs. “if i had what you guys have, i wouldn’t want to regret not taking that chance. you don’t want to let that slip through your fingers.”

“how introspective,” louis snorts, brushing off liam’s concern, but inside, his mind is whirling.

louis thinks. when he'd first slept with harry, harry had tried to confront him afterwards, to talk about it and apologize for leaving, but louis had cut him off before harry could presumably break his heart. but maybe that wasn't what he was planning on doing after all. maybe he had been willing to confess that he had feelings for louis. maybe louis got it wrong.

and the second time. louis had rushed out before harry could even wake up. he'd left him cold and alone and heartbroken after a night filled with energy and heat and hope. louis had left him feeling much like he himself had felt that first time.

oh god, louis is such a terrible person. not to mention a hypocrite.

zayn and liam clap louis on the back as he pushes his chair out, mind whirring and spinning and falling apart. "i've got to go, i've gotta find him." he stammers as he pulls on a sweatshirt and grabs his phone and wallet.

"go get your man," zayn says, giving him a tight hug. 

louis does just that. he goes and gets his man.

\---

harry is not at his flat.

louis spends ten minutes knocking at the door and yelling for harry before he comes to the realization that harry might not actually be home.

he’s also totally forgotten that it's the middle of the day on a friday. harry is probably at work. shit.

louis doesn’t really have any solid plan for what to do, so he plops himself on the floor in front of harry’s door and pulls out his phone to pass the time. he’s so engrossed in his game that he hardly notices when a skinny jean clad leg steps over him, unlocks harry’s front door, and disappears with a slam.

louis leaps to his feet and bangs on the door. “harry! come on!”

there’s no reply.

louis groans and knocks loudly on the door again. “h, i saw you. please open up.”

there’s a bit of a rustling behind the door, as if harry is taking his coat off.

“harry? please let me explain.” 

louis hears nothing.

“just give me five minutes?”

“harry, i get why you’re mad.” louis sighs. “but you did the same to me before, remember?” he knocks again.

“please?” 

the door swings open slowly. harry looks exhausted, his eyes tired, his hair rumpled, his clothes wrinkled. 

“why’d you leave?” louis demands.

harry shakes his head. “why'd you leave, louis?" his voice cracks a bit. louis winces at that, but doesn't look away. his eyes are ridiculous. louis can't stand it.

louis bites his lip. "i left because i didn't want it to turn out like last time. i left so that you couldn't leave me first."

“yeah but i apologized for that!” harry says. “i told you that it didn’t go the way i wanted it to go. we were pretty drunk and i couldn’t have you just laugh it off like it didn’t mean anything. but it didn’t matter anyway, because that’s exactly what you did a few days later.”

louis frowns, and opens his mouth, about to protest, when something catches his attention. “how did you want it to go?”

"what?"

“how did you want it to go? you said that That Night didn’t go the way you wanted it to go.” louis crosses his arms.

harry rubs at his forehead and blinks slowly. he looks exhausted. “look, i wanted it to change us,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “i wanted us to be more than friends. i wanted to be your boyfriend. but i when i woke up, i freaked out. we were drunk and i didn’t want it to be that way.”

“you want to be my boyfriend?” louis asks, his heart thumping, pulse beating in his ears.

“don’t act so surprised,” harry mutters. “i mean, look at you, louis. you’re gorgeous and funny and sweet and incredibly amazing. why wouldn’t i want to be your boyfriend?”

“because we’re best friends,” louis says dumbly. “i thought you wanted us to stay best friends.”

harry shakes his head, curls flopping over his forehead, but he doesn’t reply.

louis can’t even believe what’s happening right now. his mind is whirring and lands on the one thing that’s held him back all these years.

“but you’ve never been in a relationship,” louis says weakly. “all throughout uni and four these past four years. why would you want me?”

“louis. i was holding out for you,” harry mumbles, looking close to tears. “i thought i was so obvious.”

louis drags his foot on the ground, debating whether to say it or not. oh, fuck it. “liam says that you’re in love with me.”

harry visible pales, and shrugs. “i guess i am.”

louis doesn’t reply. he doesn’t know what to say. so all this time, harry secretly loved louis? while louis was secretly loving him right back? 

harry wraps his arms around himself, hugging his own chest. “i mean, i get it if you don’t feel the same. i kind of figured.”

louis gasps, holding his hands out as if to drag harry back in. “no wait, harry, stop. i thought it was fucking obvious!”

harry frowns at the ground. “obvious about what?”

louis takes a deep, deep breath, and lets it go. “i thought everyone knew how much i’m in love with you,” he says.

harry’s green eyes snap up to meet louis’s. the weariness has been replaced by something hopeful, and a little bit happy. “really?”

“of course,” louis exclaims. “you’re beautiful and funny and smart and you know me better than i know myself. i’ve been in love with you for ages, harry. i thought i was starring in an incredibly bad teen movie about unrequited love!”

harry shakes his head, grin widening hugely. “fuck, i can’t believe it.”

“jesus christ,” louis says, taking a step forward. “we’ve been idiots, haven’t we?”

“massive ones,” harry agrees, moving closer to louis, spreading his big hands over louis's waist. 

“zayn and liam are never going to get over this,” louis laughs as he places his hands around harry’s neck. 

“what?” harry nuzzles louis's neck. 

“they’ve been calling me an idiot for years, telling me that i was wrong about you, that we were made for each other.” louis shakes his head in disbelief. “i always thought they were delusional.”

harry moves his head in, his mouth brushing louis’s. “guess we’ve got to thank them, then.” his breath ghosts over louis’s mouth, and louis shivers. how could he have cast what was between them off as nothing? "should we send them flowers? or a fruit basket?" 

“shut up and kiss me, you fool,” he whispers, lips moving against harry’s.

harry does exactly that, sweeping him tightly into his arms, pressing his lips against louis’s. and like before, louis sees it all. the fireworks, the sparks, the fucking electricity.

this time, they wake up together. 

—

**Author's Note:**

> thanks again guys!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr: [woefullyharry.tumblr.com](woefullyharry.tumblr.com)  
> Or on twitter: [ twitter](https://twitter.com/explicitlyharry)


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